one day
by Piriluk
Summary: One day, it will become just a small pain in the chest when I think about it. One day, my whole body won't ache from the sadness. And one day, I will follow in the suit of Rin, and leave everyone else who loved us behind to feel the same sadness I felt, for us to discover the inevitable. One day, I told myself. One day. / RinxLen oneshot R&R please


**a/n wowowow so I was surprised by the amount of reviews on my last story? thank you so much nice people. ****this story is totally different from my other story. so yeah. sorry. (and it kind of sucks a lot more. even more sorry.)**

**it's the second day of my holidays and I'm sick. gg immune system, gg. (I'm consistently getting head colds this year [at the worst times too wth man] and I'm srsly wondering why I'm not already immune to them?)**

* * *

_one day_

* * *

A week before Rin went away, I visited her in the hospital.

It look a lot of courage to see her pale limbs, tired eyes and looks of lost hope; the appearance of having given in. Her blonde hair matted and grey, her cheeks hollowed out from months and months of treatment and malnourishment.

Pre-death, she had already died. Any person she was before was swallowed up by the disease; leaving behind a fragile corpse with limited patience and a sense of hopelessness so contagious you were drowning in it.

But I couldn't blame her for the person she had become. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you fight—you cannot smile in a losing battle.

We had been given time to grieve. _Three months_, her family told me, _she'll have about three months if we continue her treatment. _However, no matter how long we'd gotten, it could not stop me from hurting, being terrified of seeing her so lifeless; it could not prepare me for the foreshadowing of her departure. It couldn't prepare me for the seemingly-long journey of watching her waste away to an almost entirely different person.

I brought her favourite kind of flowers, sunflowers, which had once seemed so suited to her personality—bright, beautiful, and brilliant; like the sun. When I put them on the bedside table, she looked at them with green eyes, like she envied their life. It made me regret every bringing them.

She closed her eyes. "They'll live longer than me at this stage," she stated.

"Don't be silly, Rin," I answered—I was still being naïve, filled with useless hope and disbelief.

Her insipid lips turn down in displeasure. In the same tone I'd spoken in, she mocked, "Don't be silly, Rin. It's not like you're dying, or anything."

I bit my lip, wanting to argue, but I knew my fight wouldn't stand a chance, as it would just be filled with false optimism, and I very well knew she was due soon. My chest hurt at the sour truth.

At my lack of response, she opened her eyes to gaze at me in disinterest. Her eyes were large, blue, framed by long golden lashes. Even though her skin was a deathly pale, light orange freckles dotted her nose, like stars in a constellation.

"Why are you here?" she asked. Her eyes bored into mine. "I can tell you don't like seeing me this way."

I turned my attention to her hand, which had a tube in it, leading to a blood bag hanging suspended to her left. There were other tubes, all over her body, connecting to things of things, but most of their destinations were covered by the blankets draped over her stomach and below—and I didn't mind that, because it made me sick looking at them.

Her harsh words made me feel nervous and, unsurprisingly, sad. "Maybe not. Who would? But I can't _not_ visit you. It's—it could be the last time… we talked, you know?" I took a breath and closed my eyes, continuing, "I—I want to see you so much, I want to see you as much as possible, because you're gonna d-_die_, you know? A-and I can't speak to you—I can't see you—I can't – I can't… you won't… you'll be gone, Rin, and I-I just—" I stopped speaking since it was getting hard to breathe, because I was holding my breath so I wouldn't cry. My voice trembled too much though—it was already obvious—but I didn't want to cry in front of her because she'd probably already seen so many tears from other people beforehand.

I took a step back and ducked my head away to wipe my eyes.

Rin said nothing, her eyes averted to the bed sheets. I felt bad being so pathetic, being so selfish, crying and all, being such a baby, but I couldn't handle it. My chest felt so heavy, like something was pushing on it. I didn't want to believe this was happening. I didn't want Rin to die. But it wasn't for her sake. It was for my sake. And I knew that the longer she lived, the longer she was in pain.

"Len," Rin murmured after a moment of silence. "Come here." She beckoned me to the bed with little movement, and I stalked over and perched on the edge. Her hand reached out and grazed my jumper sleeve, and I pulled my hand from my pocket to grasp her fingers. They were cold.

She pressed her lips together and looked down, obviously thinking. Then she said, "Life will go on without me. People die every day. And I'm just another one of those deaths. You'll die too. So will your mum. So will your dad. So will Miku, Kaito, Luka—and whatever. We'll all be dead one day, and then it won't really matter."

I stared at her. There was a loud ringing in my ears, almost deafening. I opened and closed my mouth, but I didn't know what to say. I just didn't want to think about it.

"I'm going to die next week," she then said.

I paused. "What? Why? How do you know?" I didn't think it'd be possible for an angel to come and visit her and _tell_ her that…

Rin blinked indifferently. "They're going to be discharging me on Wednesday and I'll be going home. To die. I'll have less than 24 hours."

I frowned. "What, are they trying to make more room in the hospital or something?"

She narrowed her eyes. "No… I requested that when my time comes, they let me die at home with my family. And since I'm getting so weak, they decided it best I go now rather than dragging it out anymore."

"O-oh," I said, my voice small. I didn't know they could do that, but… _Wednesday_. Rin won't exist after Wednesday. It sounded like a dream. I wasn't planning on visiting her again until later that week, but if that's the case, I'd have to see her sooner. And that'd be the last time I'd ever see her. Knowing that made my hands start to shake, my palms start to turn clammy.

Rin noticed this, and her hand gripped a little tighter around mine, as if to stop the shaking. "I was wondering if… you'd be interested in coming over to my house, then," she mumbled. "I asked Mum and Dad and they didn't really care… But it's up to you. I don't know how I'll be feeling once I'll be discharged."

"Yeah…" I said. Rin raised an eyebrow. "You're not asking this because you're trying to be nice, are you? Like, because you feel like you'd be a shitty friend if you didn't."

She laughed, very briefly, before a look of pain crossed her face. "No. I want to see you. I want to see you before I die," she told me. "But I don't want to hurt you anymore. I could be in a lot of pain… I could be so much worse and bitchy than I am now, and I don't want to end up saying or doing anything that might hurt you. And because it's going to be my last…" She trailed off, looking at me. I knew she was tired from talking—it required a lot of her bodily functions which weren't cooperating, and hadn't cooperated within the last year or so.

I understood where she was getting at. I knew I would be hysterical, having to see her on the day she'd most definitely die. But I wanted to see her. I wanted to spend all the time I could with her. "Yeah," I agreed, finally, quietly. "I'll come."

Rin smiled weakly. "Thank you."

I smiled back, as much a smile I could muster. We were still holding hands. I didn't want to let go, but I could tell she was getting weary, and that meant it was best I left. "Can you come by early as possible?" she asked while I got up to leave, sliding on my coat over my jumper. "It's just… I'll probably be the best then." I nodded, and she closed her eyes, but opened them again shortly after. "Do you have school?"

"Um, no, it's still break until after next week," I stated.

She nodded.

I walked over and gently hugged her, before leaning back to look at her face. "I'll see you soon," I mentioned quietly, and she closed her eyes again. "Take care."

Her response was a gentle nod, and I left the room for what was the last time.

My head and chest hurt. A lot.

* * *

Rin had been sick on and off. Her last operation was about four months ago—and it was supposed to have a 70% success rate. It failed. And that meant she was going to die.

I tried to take my mind off Rin by reading, by going out with Kaito or whatever even though I wanted to stay huddled in my room forever, by watching the entire series of a soap opera because there was a marathon—nevertheless I'd always end up crying some way or another.

Mum and Dad kept casting those pitiful gazes, and would occasionally hug me and let me sob grossly into their shoulders. However, I don't think they would ever know how much I was hurting.

I waited for a phone call throughout the next few days, like I always had beforehand—the phone call that told me, _Rin died already_, but fortunately, or unfortunately it never came. It was a mixture between I didn't want her to die, but I wanted, if anything, for me to not know when she died.

Wednesday morning rolled around—a morning I did not want to get out of bed, a morning where I didn't even want to wake up to. I pulled on a pair of wrinkly jeans and a sweater, not really caring whether I looked presentable or not. I was mourning; if people were going to tell me to put effort into how I looked, they were a fucking heartless prick.

At about 12:30, I took the train, and got off at the next stop—_her_ stop—and walked with my head down through the streets to her house, not wanting to look at anyone. I'd been crying all night and all morning, and I probably looked like I'd been having joints or something. Surprisingly, I managed to keep myself under control on the train, though.

However when I saw her house, I thought of it again, and a mangled sound escaped from my throat as I choked back my emotions. I was the walking epitome of depression.

I rang the doorbell and stood back, staring at the concrete underneath my feet. I heard the door open, and Rin's mother appeared. "Oh, Len," she said in this weak tone when she saw my face, and pulled me into a hard embrace. The tears rose up again and this time I couldn't hold them back.

We walked inside, after she handed me some tissues, and I took off my shoes and pushed them aside. This would be the last time I walked in this house, too. The last time I came here was back in August, before Rin's operation, and we played board games. She was still very sick, then, though.

"She's in the lounge room," her mother informed me. "She seems alright for now, but the doctor said she'll start to decline within the next hour or so, once everything starts to wear off."

"R-right," I answered, my throat thick, stalling me from speaking.

I followed after her to the lounge room and Rin sat on the couch, pale and wrapped in a blanket, watching TV. "Len's here," her mother announced. She moved her gaze from the screen to look at me. "Sit down and make yourself comfy, Len, I'll go get you two something to drink and snack on."

I obeyed, sitting down hastily. I looked at Rin and she stared at me. "H-hey," I mumbled sheepishly, before turning away to wipe my eyes, feeling guilty and embarrassed with myself. She said nothing.

A moment after, Rin made a sound like she was gagging or something. Worried, I glanced back at her, expecting to see her dead already, but she was huddled in on herself, crying. She pressed a hand to her face and whispered, "Oh God, Len, I'm so sorry."

"W-why are you sorry?" My voice wobbled. She was crying, so I was going to cry, too, of course. "D-don't cry. Please." I reached out to wipe her cheek.

She whimpered, moving my hand from her face with her fingers to hold it tightly. "I'm so horrible," she croaks. "I'm so sorry for doing this to you."

"No—Rin, please—"

"Len, why did you come? Why did you come if it was hurting you so much? Why didn't you just say it was too much?" she demanded. "I'm hurting you. I'm so sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Len."

I automatically moved towards her and pulled her into my chest. "Please don't be sorry," I said into her hair. "None of it's your fault. Please stop saying sorry."

Rin sobbed loudly. She'd cried like this before—she cried when she found out the operation failed, and she kept crying for a few days after. But she was dying, so it was okay to cry. It was okay, because she was scared.

"I don't want to die, Len," she blubbered. "But I want to die at the same time, because it hurts to breathe, it hurts to live. Why do these things happen?"

I rested my chin on her head, brushing my fingers through her hair. "Because we all have to die, don't we, Rin?"

She responded by wailing into my chest, her fingers gripping onto my sweater. "What happens if I disappear forever? Will I ever exist after this?" she questioned. "Len—Len, I'm terrified. I don't want to leave. Oh God."

I tightened my hug, the thoughts also terrifying me. "I won't let you disappear. You won't disappear. I promise," I said.

"It hurts," she whispered. "Everything hurts."

I released her, thinking she meant I was hugging her too tightly, but she seemed to be reluctant to let go. When she looked at me, her blue eyes were puffy and red. It broke my heart—or broke what hadn't yet been broken. I rested my forehead on hers and closed my eyes. I loved her, in the best friend way, in the way that I wanted to hold her and never let her go, in the way I wanted to marry her. However, I felt guilty for loving her. I'd always felt like it would ruin what peace we had in between us, and… it just continually became more impossible to admit to as she deteriorated in front of my eyes.

"I know," I murmured back. "But I promise it won't hurt forever." I was making unwise promises. We both knew that. I did not truly know what happened after death, and even though I'd like to believe there's an afterlife, a heaven or something, I was still afraid because just—_no one_ really knows at all. Even though people had claimed this or that—how could we believe them? How do we trust in a world full of liars?

Rin pulled her forehead from mine. She put her hands on my cheeks and closed her eyes. "It will always hurt," she stated gently. "Even after death, it will still hurt, Len. It's just—so stupid, so stupid. It is. Life is so stupid."

I felt like I could kiss her, but I averted my gaze and bit my lip, before touching her hands with my own. I felt exhausted, so lost. It would hurt because everyone else would hurt after she was gone. And even as time would go on, it will still hurt; just only get less and less. That's the fact about life: It hurts. But we can't do anything about it.

"You're the best friend I could have ever had, Len," Rin continued quietly. "And I feel like I've taken so much from you because of everything that's happened."

"You're the best friend I could have ever had, too, Rin," I answered. "And I'm so grateful to have known someone like you. You mean the world to me. The only thing you're taking away from me is you."

She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." My heart was beating fast. I really wanted to say… _something_, you know. 'I love you,' or just… I wanted her to know. I didn't want to keep it to myself forever. But I couldn't. The words just couldn't form in my mouth.

Rin drew her hands down to my shoulders, squeezing them with her fingers. She looked weary—but I knew she didn't want to sleep. She gazed at me for a while, before tilting her head down to rest on my chest. "Thank you so much," she said. "Thank you for coming here."

"Rin, if it meant spending more time with you, I wouldn't miss it for the world," I told her. "I could never live with myself… if I wasn't there for you."

She lifted her head from my chest. She looked at me, but then looked away to the television screen, silent—thinking. Finally, Rin glanced back at me. "Let's… watch TV for a while," she suggested. I think I made her feel awkward. I bit my lip and nodded, turning my attention to the television screen.

We sat there in silence for a while, apparently watching the TV, and hardly spoke even when Rin's mum came in with tea and sweets. Nothing on the television screen processed: instead I was thinking about Rin, and about how this was our last time with each other. I wondered if Rin thought the same, but when I reached over to help myself to one of the sweets that she hadn't even glanced at, her eyes were glued to the screen, occupied.

I really, really wished it wasn't.

* * *

Three hours later, Rin started to show obvious signs of her weakening. The tea her mother placed had gone cold, not even looked at, and the sweets were dead to her—and when her mum came back in to check her, Rin asked for painkillers.

That's when I noticed her skin, if not already, was incredibly pale, and her breathing was short, ragged. It became very obvious after that, and I couldn't drown out her struggling breaths with my thoughts. I wanted to say something, _anything_ at all, but I couldn't. My hands began to shake again, so I stuffed them into my pants pockets, hoping Rin didn't notice.

When her mum came back with a glass of water and painkillers—apparently she was allowed to have some, if she could stomach it, to try and make her death less excruciating—she asked if I was okay with staying any longer; that Rin's condition would only worsen from now on.

I replied that if it was fine with them I would stay a bit longer, and she smiled and said it was all good, before leaving us be again (but I doubted she was too far away if anything were to happen). Rin hadn't batted an eye at that, and I was wondering if she was actually not okay with me staying.

Another hour ticked by, and Rin coughed up a handful of blood. I was a little freaked out by it, seeing her stare down at her hands covered in red, her eyes wide as reality started to sink in. Panicked, I called for her mother, who came running with a concerned expression. She saw the blood and without a second glance cleaned it up, handing Rin tissues, a bucket and baby wipes. That moment I realised how well she was coping with knowingly watching her daughter die before her eyes.

The sky outside was getting dark, about then. The sun set early due to winter. I also felt myself start to cry again, with Rin's frantic breathing, bloody cough and the signs of the day starting to end—we were only drawing closer to the outcome I feared most.

"Len," Rin said in a strained voice eventually, after hearing me cry for about thirty minutes. "Len, you can leave. I won't hate you."

I wiped my nose and eyes on my sleeve and answered, "No, it's okay."

"Really," she insisted. "It's kind of… embarrassing."

"What's embarrassing?" I queried, turning to her. She looked… as close to dead when you were living.

Rin's eyes softened. "Dying." Then she closed her eyes, and mentioned, "I just want to sleep, even if that means I won't wake up again."

"Yeah." The words stung, so I glanced back at the TV, and thought for a while. Finally, without looking at her, I questioned quietly, "Do you think the stars will be out tonight?"

In my peripheral vision, Rin opened her eyes again, apparently surprised by the question. "Why?"

"Just for a bit… can we lay out under the stars? Like we used to do when we were younger?" I inquired softly. "I mean… if you feel like it though. It's cold, and you probably don't feel like moving anyway. Sorry."

I felt her hand reach out and touch my arm, and habitually I pulled my hand out of my pocket to hold it. Cold, so cold. "Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah, the stars sound good." Rin turned her head away. "Mum?"

"Sweetie?" her mum replied, appearing in the doorway.

"Len and I are going to look at the stars… Can I have some warm clothes?" An unreadable expression crossed her mother's face, like she was against the idea. However, she nodded, and disappeared from the door.

After she'd left, I asked, "Are you sure she'd be okay with it?"

"I'm going to die either way, so she can't exactly say no," came Rin's reply. Another pang. "Would you be alright with carrying me out?"

I smiled blandly. "Sure."

She half-smiled back, her eyelids drooping slightly. She attempted to squeeze my hand, but it was weak. I carefully squeezed hers back, and was about to open my mouth to say something when her mother walked back in with a thick coat and several layers of clothing. I decided to leave it until later.

She pulled on Rin's clothes and piled them on to the thickness that she looked like a marshmallow. When we all agreed we were prepared, I tucked my arms under Rin's legs and back and lifted her up. She was light and bony—something that I found really confronting. She must've noticed this, because she reached up to brush her fingers against my face and gave me a somewhat sad look, like she was trying to apologise.

Her mum helped us outside and laid a blanket down on the grass. The moon and stars were already up to my delight, twinkling in the sky. I placed Rin down on the blanket and sat down beside her, lifting her head onto my lap.

"Pretty," Rin breathed, and a dribble of blood from her mouth ran down her chin. Hesitantly, I wiped it away and nodded in agreement, thinking that if I spoke I would probably throw up or cry, before looking back up at the sky.

I remembered what I was going to say before and looked back down at her. Her eyes were focused on the moon, and she had a strange expression on her face. "Hey, Rin," I said.

"Mm?" She glanced away to gaze at me. She hardly looked like the Rin I knew just under a year ago. So much had happened. And unfortunately, time was irreversible, and I was never going to get that Rin back again.

I bit my lip, hesitant, my thoughts calculating. "I love you," I breathed.

Rin stared at me, her eyes shifting slightly. She then reached out to touch my lips. "I… love you too," she answered.

I blinked, my vision getting blurry. I felt my cheeks burn and my heart was beating fast in my chest, like a motor. I began to stumble anxiously, my mind telling me to say more. "I have always wanted to tell you, _I love you_, but I could never—it just—I was afraid of destroying what we had. I was happy… just being friends with you in the end." I swallowed, hard, trying to force back the tears.

She smiled at me, a small smile; but she seemed a little distant and pained. "I love you, too, Len," she repeated, her voice sounding strained. "And I'll love you even after this. And I want you to be happy always. Please be happy."

I took in a shaky breath. "I will be. I will be," I said, my words slurred. "Just not now, but I will be." She continued to gaze at me, a calm quiet between both of us, and so I finally summoned up the courage and leaned forward to kiss her on the lips gently. Her lips were dry and cold, but gentle. She trailed her fingers against my jaw and I brushed my hand through her hair, taking in what life she still had in her. I pulled away slightly and we stared at each other in silence, a smile still on her lips. I smiled back thinly.

Once I moved my face away to give us breathing space, she moved her eyes away from mine to stare back up to the stars. "Look at the stars, Len. They're so beautiful," she indicated.

I followed suit and watched them with her in silence, agreeing with her statement, tracing out constellations in the stars like I used to trace out constellations on her freckles. They twinkled, and somehow I felt like if I reached out my hand I could touch them. But they were truthfully miles and miles and miles away, in the calming black nothingness that hung above our heads.

Eventually I noticed her breathing was worsening. She began gasping for air, trembling against my legs, and when I finally tuned back into reality and heard it, I looked back down to see her mouth was filled with a dark liquid—blood. Her hands reached out to grip onto my arm tightly as it dribbled from her mouth, and she was saying something, but her words were drowned and choked out.

My mind went all milky. I think I called for her mum and dad, because they came running out shortly after, and they lifted her from my lap and let her vomit blood onto the grass beside the blanket. My arm stung from her nails, and I looked away, not knowing what to do, not knowing what I was doing anymore.

Only one thought came to my mind: _Rin is no longer going to exist anymore_.

And then I forced myself to look back, and they had her there on her side and she was shaking as her breaths got shorter and shallower, and her blue eyes were wide open, darting frantically, and I could see it there: fear.

"It hburtsss, it hbsut, t hbsujtu—" Rin was spluttering.

Her mother shushed her, brushing her hair away from her face and rubbing her arm, whispering gentle words into her ear. Strange noises were coming from my mouth as I was at a loss, unable to cry, unable to speak or anything.

"Len, you can look away," her dad stated in concern after seeing my expression. "This isn't going to be pretty."

I knew he meant she was going to die very soon, and so I cried out her name instead of looking away, my cry muddled by my choked up throat, unsure of what else I was supposed to do. It was all hazy, all black and blue, all cold—so cold.

"Shh," her mum whispered. "It'll be okay. You'll be okay, honey." Her voice cracked, and it hit me in the chest like a bullet.

"We love you, Rinnie," her dad told her, kissing her head. "We love you so much."

I was crying then. Time had slowed as realisation dawned, and all I could think was, _she's dying. Rin's dying. She's going to die. Rin won't be Rin anymore. She's dying_.

Her breaths began to disappear; becoming softer, weaker, one by one. Blood ran out from her nose and mouth, staining her near-grey skin with red trails. Her eyes stared lifelessly at me, unblinking, and for once I couldn't see any emotion in them. She was gone, she was gone. She took one last, brief breath, almost unnoticeable and lazily exhaled, like relief had come over her, and her body relaxed, losing all life, and her eyelids drooped, her face void of expression.

She was gone.

She

was

_g o n e_

* * *

I kept replaying her last moment in my head, over and over, and I had nightmares of it for a month after her death. For a while everything felt numb, and when I didn't show a sign of moving from my bed two weeks after her funeral, Mum called the mental health services.

I didn't really want to talk to the people who came and asked strange and personal questions. Most of my responses were a nod, a shake of a head… a nod… I just didn't want to say words or how I felt. It just hurt so much to do.

It's not like I wanted to be such a slug. I just didn't feel like moving. I just didn't feel like thinking. I just didn't feel like existing. It was too much to ask, though. I just wanted to forget what happened; I couldn't imagine living in a world without Rin.

Kaito came over one day, in the midst of my bedroom-stuck depression, and dumped a large pile of homework from school onto my desk. "This is a pretty strange sight," he said. "Len Kagamine missing school and not even caring. Usually he would be fretting."

I groaned into my pillow in response, before moving my head so I was looking at him.

"Well, I'm glad to know you're so _delighted_ to see me," he continued. When he saw my expression—I must've been glaring at him or something—he laughed nervously and said, "I was just kidding."

"How can you be so happy?" I asked monotonously.

Kaito shrugged, kicking a pair of boxers that I wore last week for three days straight. "I'm not happy because she died, Len, if that's what you're getting at. But we've got to move on. Yeah, we can look back and be sad at times… but you know what? She's not in pain anymore. She lived her life, and apart from all the recent shit, it was a pretty great life, and I think that's all that matters."

"She doesn't exist anymore," I responded.

He just looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed, apparently frustrated. "What will be, will be," he told me. "Rin no longer exists in the form of Rin, but rather in the air, in the soil, in the trees, whatever, and in the people who were born after her. Rin, the girl who died, would have continued on giving life to everything else from now on. And I'm sure, Rin the tree or Rin the 500 babies, would be thinking of you and saying, 'This shit head is wasting his life away, his precious life which I so would've gladly liked to have, by moping around all day and feeling sorry for himself.'"

I said nothing, because he was right. I just stared at his feet.

"Well, fuck ya, then," Kaito mumbled. He stalked over to the bed and punched me in the ear. I winced, but didn't move, and he said in a pert tone, "Cheer up, you fucking helpless potato." He was not a patient person, but somewhere, unconsciously, I understood his actions.

He left, and I stared at the pile of work I'd missed within the last month or so of school.

One day, it will become just a small pain in the chest when I think about it. One day, my whole body won't ache from the sadness. And one day, I, and Kaito and Mum and Dad and the others, will follow in the suit of Rin, and leave everyone else who loved us behind to feel the same sadness I felt, for us to discover the inevitable.

One day, I told myself. One day.

* * *

**yeah. before anyone goes, "Was this inspired by TFIOS?" I'm going to yell NO. because it isn't. actually the first few lines is part of my english assignment (with exception I changed the names), because we have to write a story based on a poem of our choice (it doesn't have to be directly linked, if you get me, but inspired by it). my story is inspired by Dial WX 4500 by Bruce Dawe. it's really deep and good and I recommend you check it out if you want to see where the theme for this story came from yes!1!**

**again, I suck at endings, lol. **

**please review anyway? (and if you notice any tense changing ples tell me because I suck at writing in past tense, but I need to practice it for my englees ;v;)**


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